


Animal I Have Become

by cnsltngdtctv



Series: Crowley's Three Days Grace [1]
Category: Crowley - Fandom, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF, Superwholock - Fandom
Genre: Crossroads Deals & Demons, Death, Demon Blood Addiction, Demonic Possession, Demons, Domination, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, Rough Sex, SEX IS HAPPENING ETC, Sex torture, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:50:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnsltngdtctv/pseuds/cnsltngdtctv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassidy, a hunter gone rouge, is on a search for something that was stolen from her, with just one problem; the King Of Hell is its new owner. <br/>When she finally tracks down Crowley, she realises she may have bitten off a whole lot more than she can chew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is a Crowley/Supernatural fic that came into my head while listening to a Three Days Grace album, and this first fic will be based on their song "Animal I Have Become". The first few chapters are a build up to what i hope to be a long series, so no sex/relationship yet. Just hoping that it's interesting enough to keep working on. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!  
> \- Jess
> 
> P.S. If you don't/haven't listened to Three Days Grace, and you want to understand what the hell i'm talking about, here's a link to the song; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqds0B_meys.

_I can’t escape this hell,_   
_So many times I’ve tried;_   
_But I’m still caged inside._

 

The girl walked towards the man tied to the chair in the centre of the room, careful not to step beyond the demon trap that shone like a beacon from the ground. She walked around the perfect circle, before coming to a halt to examine he captive. Chained to the chair with iron that burned its way into his skin, the girl moved to squeeze a bag just outside the trap connected to a drip filled with purified blood, and its head snapped up quickly as it screamed into the leather strap secured around its mouth.

“Let’s try this again, filth.” She growled, walked into the circle to examine the flesh sigil carved into his skin, before removing the strap. “You stole something from me. I’ve tracked and killed so many of your horde to find you, and this pain will not end until you tell me where you hid it.”

A hoarse laugh filled the room and she walked back towards a table, on which a variety of implements sat, made from anything from metals to crystals. She slowly ran her fingers across them, waiting for him to continue. “You stupid bitch. I sold the fucking thing as soon as I got my hands on it. I want money, what use would an angel blade be to me? Someone would’ve grabbed it as quickly as I had if I didn’t have a buyer already lined up. You’re never going to see it again.” He went to laugh again, but a small iron blade dug into his left shoulder, inches from his heart, and he gasped in pain.

“You have no idea how long it took me to get my hands on that.” The girl replied with menace. “I don’t care how long it takes me to get it back, I will have it again.” She said, throwing another blade into the kneecap. “Who did you sell it to? Where can I find them?” She countered, turning to face him, and taking satisfaction in his pained expression.

He snarled then. “Someone you’ll never be able to reach. I sold it to the King Of Hell Himself. Crowley has your toy now.”  
“Well this Crowley better get ready, because Cassidy is coming for him.” She replied, picking up a particularly intricate blade and walking over to him once more. “And she’s dying to kill some angels.” She whispered into his ear, before plunging something known simply as ‘Rudy’s Blade’ into his chest, killing it's host instantly and watching the demon die out inside the meatsuit with a final bitter scream.

 

She was broken, and she knew it. No mercy for demon hosts, or anyone for that matter, and she was going after the King Of Hell, to reclaim a blade to kill some of the purest beings in the universe. Cassidy packed her knifes and clothes in a duffel bag, and slug it over her shoulder as she headed out to her recently acquired motorbike – the previous owner would have no use for it with a axe buried deep in his skull after all.

Turning the key, she lit a cigarette as she waited for the engine to warm up. She wasn’t always like this, but being tricked into the middle of a fight between heaven and hell, a mind trapped in a body that you are no longer able to control, for years before you could fight your way out – it does things to a person. Things that can’t be repaired or forgotten, no matter how many times one tried.

The girl believed that the only way she was going to be fixed is when she was dead – and she had a lot to do before that day finally came.


	2. Chapter 2

_Somebody get me through this nightmare,  
I can’t control myself._

 

After weeks of whispered leads from demons and hunters alike, the search for the new owner of Cass’s stolen blade had finally led her to Lebanon, Kansas, staking out two seemingly ‘famous’ Hunters who had based themselves in a war time bunker few knew about. She had heard whispers about Sam and Dean through many different sources, especially in the war, but she had never actually seen them in the flesh. Many of the hunters she had tortured, and killed, over the time were believed to have had links with the brothers, so she was sure they would’ve heard about her, and it was possible that only good clean up jobs had been the reason for them not catching her so far. She was good. But it was only a matter of time before they had to meet, and seeing as they seemed to be the only way she had to get to Crowley, this time, there was no chance of avoidance. 

It was around four in the morning as she walked swiftly from the house she had set up at, the owners preoccupied in the basement until she figured out something else to do with them. Although she usually preferred her own space in abandoned places that no one would look, or the classic hotel room, this dwelling was already set up with a variety of high tech equipment, belonging to a retired intelligence agent – and it was much easier to hack into his computers than spend hours setting up her own. 

After keeping a close eye on the Winchesters for the better part of two weeks, Cass knew that having just come back from a hunt, they wouldn’t just be tired, but weak. Although she was sure she could take them at their strongest, she didn’t want them to put up much of a fight, preferring to save her strength for when they summoned Crowley for her – and they would.  
Sneaking to where she knew from surveillance there was a side entrance hatch, not as obvious as the front door, she expertly picked the lock and swiftly clambered down the metal ladder, landing silently on her feet as she removed a gun and large hunting knife from her belt. Moving quickly down a short passage that led to what must have been a large library/sitting room, she began to hear two male voices bounding around the cement walls towards her.

“…The demons are pissed. She kills everyone she ever meets, so no-one actually knows what she wants.” The voice paused as Cassidy reached the end of the passage, using a mirror hanging on the wall opposite to where the voices were coming to identify the shorter, blonde brother as the speaker, who had paused to take a sip from a beer can as a paced around the room. The dark haired hunter sat at the large table, cluttered with books and papers, staring at an open laptop screen. “Whoever this chick is, we need to make her a priority, before she focuses her attention a little closer to home.” He finished, crushing the can in his hand and throwing it over his shoulder. “Sam, are you listening to me?”

Sam looked up from his laptop screen and leaned back in his chair, hands crossed behind his head; “I’m more interested in what she is. There’s no way someone with that kind of bloodlust is human.” Cassidy smirked, and stepped out from the passage, weapons at the ready, in full view of the brothers.

“Oh dear me.” She started, causing both of the men to jump and turn quickly to face her. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s rude to talk about people behind their back? My my, what will we do with you?”


	3. Chapter 3

_So what if you can see, the darkest side of me?  
No one will ever change this animal I have become._

 

The brothers were on her quickly, both having scrambled for some pretty average looking hunting knives that were sitting on the table. Their reflex’s were extraordinarily slow from their fatigue, and their combat training not entirely up to scratch, as in an instant she had kicked the blade out of Deans hand and had him against the wall with a knife to his neck, and Sam on the ground with a precise blow to the side of the head, his weapon clattering to a halt three meters away, with a black boot in the middle of his chest and her pistol pointed at his forehead.

“Nothing personal guys” she remarked, looking from one to the other as they exchanged obvious _‘Are you okay?’_ glances, and she shoved the heal of her boot further into Sam’s chest and pressed the blade ever so slightly into Deans neck, causing a trickle of blood to run down his throat. “Your boss has something of mine, and I’ve come to collect.” She added with a smile.

“We don’t have a fucking boss, psycho.” Dean spat out, causing her to laugh. 

“Oh sorry, your ‘partner?’ Is that what you two think the 'King Of Hell' is to you? He owns you, you idiots.” She growled. “Jut tell me where I can find him and I’ll be on my way.” She added glaring at each of them in turn, daring them to fight back.

“Hello boys.” A deep voice sounded from behind her, and she turned her head without falter, long blonde hair whipping across her face. “Well, well, well, who do we have here?” He asked, his voice soaked with a magnificent English accent as he looked up and down the girls leather clad body in interest.

“Her name’s Ca..” Dean started, but she cut him off, pressing the knife in further, as the demon took a sultry step towards her.

“Any closer and they’ll be dead before you can blink.” She ordered, watching the man closely. “And then who would do all your dirty work for you?” she winked, as he raised his hands in fake surrender.

“Well seeing as you’ve killed most of my other lapdogs, I wouldn’t mind keeping these two around for a little longer if you don’t mind, my lovely Cassidy Nightingale.” He revelled in the surprise that crossed her face as he used her full name. “How about we let the boys go and we can have a little chat?” He asked, taking another tentative step towards her. Sam gasped and moaned as she put more pressure on his chest, and she felt a rib crack under the pressure. She smirked lazily.

“Or, how about you give me back the blade that belongs to me, and I’ll get out of your hair, Mister Macleod.” Cass replied, maintaining eye contact.

“Oooo, someone’s been doing their research.” He said, grinning. “I think I’m beginning to like you!” he turned to look past the girl to the brothers at her mercy. “How about it boys, I think I might keep her.” And with a snap of his fingers, her weapons disappeared and the men were on their feet ready to pounce, as the girl broke into a run. 

Two seconds later, the demon materialised in front of her, and she almost collided with him. “Uh uh, not so fast. We have so much to talk about.” He winked, grabbed her wrist, clicked one again, and they were gone.


	4. Chapter 4

_Help me believe, it’s not the real me,  
_ _Somebody help me tame this animal._

 

“Well hello there Princess.” The voice seemingly came from the opposite side of the room as Cassidy’s eyes slowly opened and adjusted to her surroundings. She was in a room that looked annoyingly like a dungeon, grey cement with chains on the walls, and a table she was sure held all kinds of equipment used for torture. Trying to sit up, she realised two things; First, she was unable to move, tied to some kind of metal table which was tilted with her head up, so she could observe the room around her. There were tick leather straps just above her ankles and knees, across her lower abdomen and breasts, forehead and mouth, and just above her elbows and wrists. The second, she was no longer on earth, she could feel it. She moved against the restraints, testing their strength, but after years of getting out of situations like this, she knew this one was going to be a lot more difficult than most.

“Didn’t expect you to wake up so soon, the trip down here usually takes at least a couple of days for most normal people to recover from.” Her eyes moved to the speaker, Crowley, standing near the bolted door of the room, knife in hand. Cassidy groaned against the leather, knowing what was going to happen next. After her years as an unwilling vessel, she’d learnt to deal with pain, but she did like to avoid it as much as possible.

“So, are you going to be a good little girl and do what you’re told or are we going to have to do this the, well, the way you like to do things?” Crowley said, walking towards the girl smirking, and releasing the leather strap around her mouth.

“What do you want? Where the hell are we?” She growled, staring him straight in his completely black eyes.

“Well darling, hell is exactly where we are. Although something tells me you already knew that.” He replied in a questioning tone, running the blade down the side of her left arm with very little pressure, but enough to draw a line of blood droplets all the same. “And what I want, well that’s easy. I want everything. But at this precise moment, I want you.”

“I’d rather die.” She spit back, as he began drawing the knife across her skin once again, this time cutting deeper, just under her belly button.

“And die you just might. But for now, we’re just going to talk. So tell me about your last trip down under.” He said, trailing the cold metal from her belly to her throat.

“Do your worst.” Cass replied simply, and turned her head away as he bought the blade to her right temple. He laughed deeply and cut right down the side of her face.

“Love, no-one survives my worst. But lets have some fun shall we?”

 

A short while later, a number of bruises and deepened cuts later, Crowley had realised that this form of torture, without possibly fatal or life changing injuries, wouldn’t work on this girl, and he didn’t want to proceed any further; not yet anyway.

“You are stubborn darling, this may take longer than I thought.” He said, walking once again to the dreaded table, and Cass groaned, pulling a smile from his lips. She turned her head, not wanting to see what was coming next, knowing made it much harder not to resist.

“Just get it over with, it’s way past my bed time.” She managed, but felt the long cut down the side of her face split open again at the bottom.

This time, when her approached her again, she didn’t feel the cut of a knife, the sting of a whip or anything similar, but instead heard some kind of wheeling sound. She turned her head to see that it seemed to be a hospital like stand, on one hook an empty bag, and another a bag filled with some kind of clear substance. Cass wondered what the hell was going on, but didn’t want to give her captor the satisfaction of her asking.

“Now love, I’m sure you’ve seen these before – and IV and a hypodermic needle.” He said, while taking his place on the left of her, as she heard a trolley roll behind her head.

“Oooo kinky.” She replied, feeling the blood that had run down her cheek drip onto her neck and pool with the rest of it. “Whatya gunna do with that big boy?” She added, voice dripping with irritation and exhaustion.

“Well, it occurred to me that if, for the time being, you weren’t going to give me the information that I want, you might as well give me something else.” Crowley spoke slowly, as if concentrating, whens she felt the first point, the IV, enter the back of her left arm, just above her wrist. She winced, having never been too fond of not knowing what someone else was pumping into her body. “So I figured I’d take something that I could get without any verbal communication at all.” At that, Cassidy felt a tightening, like a cloth being just above the crook of her elbow in her right arm, and then another pinch, this time with a drawing sensation to follow.

“Well I have to say I’m rather a bit B negative about the whole situation, she drawled, having lost so much blood already, this was not a good sign. She turned her head again, eyes squinted, to see the English man standing over her smiling.

“Let’s not lose that beautiful sassy sense of humour when I finally break you, my pet. When I break you down to the girl you were before all the bad things I assume happened to you; I mean I still want you to be fun to keep around. For now though, rest. Ill be back in a few days, and then we begin again.” He finished with a snap of the fingers, he disappeared.

No matter how hard she tried to stop the memories coming back, in this weakened state they flowed freely across her closed eyelids and she realised that one thing Crowley had said was true; she was normal before these last few years took everything from her, and she had turned into an animal, a bloodhound on the scent of revenge, not caring who she hurt to get it. If there was one thing she was sure of though, the King of Hell would be the last person in the universe who was going to be able fix that.


End file.
